Stardew Valley's graphics are the typical example of a low-quality game, yet it's precisely this kind of game that's incredibly easy to get addicted to.
Anyone who has played this game finds it hard to resist the obsession of crazily farming day after day.
Each day is a checkpoint that subconsciously makes people feel like finishing that day is the only way to make the experience complete — quitting midway would feel like giving up halfway.
And so the cycle of farming and mining repeats each day — it's even more exhausting than a real job, but people still enjoy it endlessly.
Of course, farming and mining alone couldn't possibly make people this addicted, let alone to the point of losing sleep and skipping meals. The game has more than just farming.
There are festivals, raising affection levels with NPCs, and once you reach a certain level of affection, different characters start to offer help or trigger story progression.
In Tokyo, at the game review company founded by Murakami Kazuo, it was already 11 a.m., but the office was eerily quiet. Only a janitor in his fifties was cleaning inside the company.
"It's already the third day. Is this company about to go under?"
...
...
The janitor stood in the office hallway, looking around with confusion.
About three days ago, the employees of this company started coming in very late. In any normal company, the boss would have been furious and made sure the employees understood how the real world works.
But this company's boss was a young man — not only did he not scold the latecomers, he even led by example and didn't show up himself, giving everyone a day off. It was the first time in the janitor's life seeing something like that.
But even after that one-day break, no one came in.
Then came the third day, and still, no one showed up.
The janitor began to suspect this company might already be preparing to shut down.
And who could blame him? This company never looked serious to begin with. Everything seemed too relaxed. The employees didn't wear uniforms, there was no rigid hierarchy — bosses didn't act like bosses, and employees didn't act like employees. A company this loose couldn't last long.
He sighed, cleaned up the office space, and got ready to move on to the next office area.
In reality, this company wasn't showing any signs of failure — quite the opposite. It was thriving as the gaming industry grew.
With the backing of Gamestar Electronic Entertainment, the company's professionalism in reviews was widely recognized. It might not grow fast, and its profits might not match review sites that take ad money, but supporting a dozen editors and turning a small profit was no problem.
Murakami Kazuo also wasn't someone obsessed with business expansion, which made his employees seem more like a group of unemployed drifters than actual staff.
So why hadn't anyone shown up at the office for two or three days?
There was only one reason: they were all playing Stardew Valley.
These people, constantly in touch with cutting-edge video games, were also the easiest group to get hooked.
Once they genuinely acknowledged a game, it was all over.
Finally, on the fifth day — just when the janitor was nearly convinced the company had gone bankrupt — a few tired-looking employees slowly dragged themselves into the office.
"What... happened to you all?"
The janitor was shocked. These people hadn't shown up for work, yet each looked pale and worn out. What had they been doing?
Had they found new jobs? Something that was wearing them down?
"Ah, good morning, sir. We're back at work. These past two days really almost killed me. If I didn't come back today, I was afraid I'd drop dead."
Another employee nearby nodded in agreement. "Yeah, this might have been the craziest few days of my life. I honestly feel like I could keep playing forever."
The janitor, of course, had no idea what was going on. But from what the young people were saying, it seemed the company wasn't closing after all — and just then, Murakami Kazuo finally appeared.
Even though he was still young, Murakami looked noticeably more haggard, though a spark of excitement still burned in his eyes.
"Good morning, everyone."
"Good morning, Murakami-senpai... Ah, you don't look too great either."
Murakami turned to glance at him and gave a wry smile. "You don't look much better yourself."
In his ten years of gaming, it had been a long time since Murakami Kazuo had been this deeply engrossed in a game.
The game had no impressive graphics — in fact, by modern standards, it would be considered outdated and low-quality. But it had a strange, undeniable charm.
And when he saw that his own employees were just as hooked, bingeing Stardew Valley for days on end, he realized something:
That maybe his view of video games had been a bit shallow.
Maybe games didn't have to win with visuals or big budgets. Look at this game, created and released by some mysterious individual — he had rediscovered a long-lost kind of fun in this rough-looking game.
Who would have thought that farming and mining could be this enjoyable?
But games were ultimately just for fun — they weren't everything. After several sleepless nights spent playing Stardew Valley, Murakami decided it was time to return to work. He called his team and officially resumed operations.
Now, days later, he had already decided what his first task would be: to write a review of Stardew Valley.
And this time, he would write it himself.
At the same time, his interest in his long-lost online benefactor — "Nintendo is the damn ruler of the world" — grew even stronger.
After all these years, he had no way to contact that mysterious figure. What had that person been through all these years? What led them to create a game like this?
Aside from the retro graphics, there was almost nothing to criticize about the game.
Back at the office, Murakami greeted his equally worn-out employees as he walked in, then sat at his desk and opened his text editor.
Before, when he wrote reviews, he would always rely on standard phrases and templates, then fill in some quick judgments.
But this time, none of those formulaic phrases came to mind. All he could think of was his love for Stardew Valley.
Without thinking, he typed out a title:
"A digital farm you'll never want to leave — a video game you'll never regret playing."